Letters for you
by RainbowLightsaber
Summary: Even during the Spanish Civil War Antonio had written letters to Lovino. And now, a few years later, Lovino finally gets to read them too. To be continued.


Behold, here comes my poor attempt at writing fanfiction based on historical events!

I'm gonna be honest here, I don't know a lot about the Spanish Civil War, and I'm pretty sure I failed quite hard, but please be gentle with me. Also, the dates were chosen randomly, except the 13th of March and the 2nd of April. You'll find more information at the bottom.

I hope you like it anyway :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. *gasp* What a plot twist!

* * *

February 1940

World War II was a very complicated time, to say the least. Lovino, of course, was no exception to this. Ever since the March on Rome, his brother was… different. He just wasn't the same any more, and Lovino didn't know how to deal with that. All he knew was that it was better to do as Feliciano told him, otherwise his brother would introduce him to a world of pain. And if he wanted him to stay home, he'd stay home.

In all honesty, Lovino was terribly scared of his brother, who was busy most of the time anyway. Still, he didn't really want to stay at home. He was bored out of his mind and worried shitless at the same time. Every time his brother left the house he prayed to god that he'd come home unharmed, even though he felt even worse when Feliciano was in the house with him. There was nobody to keep him company when his brother wasn't home, so Lovino found himself left alone in their house quite often. And since he really had nothing better to do and needed to distract himself, he started cleaning out their attic and basement.

He'd come across so many old memories, some good, some bad, and he had spent so much time in the dim light fighting the tears back, and all he wanted was for this goddamn war to end and for his little brother to change back to normal. Because his current behaviour wasn't normal, he was sure of it.

And as much as he loathed to admit it, he also wanted to see Antonio again. Of course he had heard about the civil war going on in Spain, but he wanted to know how Antonio himself was. It was weird anyway, since they usually wrote each other letters about what was going on, but it had been a while now since Lovino had received a letter from him. Maybe he was just too busy, Lovino thought as he returned to his earlier task.

He was currently busy sorting out their old clothes and putting them away neatly so there was some more space in the basement. He was going through a box containing a few maid dresses and white robes and some of the other clothes Feliciano had worn as a kid when he came across a pack of letters, bound together by a piece of string. At first he paid them no mind and tossed them aside carelessly, but the address caught his attention anyway, since there was his name on it.

For a moment he just stared at the letters in his hands and felt like this was all just a very mean, very bad joke. He had never seen them before and had no clue whatsoever what they were all doing up here. But his curiosity won and so he ripped the piece of string off and looked at the sender. They were all from Antonio. And a look at the post office's seal told him that they had all been sent during the Spanish Civil War.

So Antonio had written him even during the war? And he hadn't even had the opportunity to answer him? The thought made his heart clench painfully in his chest. But still, all the letters were still unopened, why were they up here? Had Feliciano…? No, he hadn't. He would never do that. Lovino was sure of it. But on the other hand, Feliciano had changed quite a lot. Lovino had also never thought his brother would hit him, and still he had done it.

But he pushed that thought aside quickly and focused on the letters again. And all of sudden he realized that he had no idea whatsoever what Antonio had written. It could be something bad, something terrible even, and Lovino wouldn't be able to do something because it was too late already. Suddenly he wasn't too sure if he still wanted to read them. But after taking a couple of deep breaths and calling himself a coward he opened the first one with shaking hands.

* * *

_November 9__th__, 1936_

_Dear Lovino,_

_I'm sorry, I know it's been a while since the last time I had the opportunity to write you a letter. But I think you already heard about the Civil War. Ah, what should I say? _

_I can't even remember the last time I didn't hold a weapon in my hands. I think my hands aren't hands that should be used in such a way. I'd rather use them to take care of my garden or cook something nice for us. But there's not much I can do right now._

…_I really wish you were here with me, you know? I know you don't like to hear it, but I miss you. Every single day since you left my house, I miss you. I thought I got over it by now, but I guess I was only fooling myself. Your presence always made me feel better, no matter what. _

_To be honest, I don't know what to do. The only thing I do know is that I can't leave my people alone. I need to be out there with them, fight alongside them. You know that better than anybody else. But it's different. I'm fighting against my own people this time, and that makes me unbelievably sad. I can kind of understand them, but I still feel like I'm caught between two stools. _

_Ah, but as I said, you know me, so you also know that I'll pull through somehow. I always manage to do that. So I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me. _

_Yours truly,_

_Antonio_

* * *

_April 21__st__, 1937_

_Dear Lovino,_

_I don't know if you got my last letter, maybe it got lost along the way, or maybe you got it and you were just too busy to answer me, but that's not important right now. I just felt like I should really write you another letter._

_Actually, I don't really know what to tell you. But it hurts. It hurts so badly, I think you know what I mean, Lovino. I am still out there with my people, but lately I've been feeling pretty useless. My legs are wobbly and my head feels like something is burning its way through my brain. Most likely I won't be able to go on like this much longer. I'm just so tired. It feels like ages since I slept properly. All the chaos around me won't allow me to rest. _

_I wish I could make them stop. I know it's not my fault personally, but I still feel responsible somehow. In the past, I always wondered what would have to happen so one would fight against their own country's people. I think I can imagine now. _

_I know I said so already, but I really want to see you. I keep imagining what I'd do first when this war ends. No matter how many times I think about it, the first thing I'd like to do is come and see you. Hopefully this day will come soon. _

_Yours truly,_

_Antonio_

* * *

_March 13__th__, 1938_

_Dear Lovino,_

_I'm sure you heard about what happened yesterday. To be honest, I feel sorry for Austria. And still, all I can really think about is that it's just a few more days until your birthday, and once again, I won't be able to celebrate it with you. Ah, I still remember when you were a child. Those days seem so far away right now. You grew up into such a strong-willed, smart, handsome young man, and I want you to know that I'm proud of you. Maybe I won't have an opportunity to tell you this in person any more._

_So much has happened since the last time I wrote you. I've been at home since October, and the pain is almost unbearable by now. I feel so pathetic. I spend my days in bed since I can barely move at the moment. I sleep a lot too, but every time I wake up again I feel even worse than before. To be honest, I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. _

_At this point, I really need you by my side. I'm sure you remember when I came back from the battles against Turkey. I don't remember a lot of it, actually, but the one thing I know for sure is that you were right next to me. You took care of my wounds and even to scrub the blood off my fingers. I wish you were here to do that right now. I'm lonely without you._

_I keep wishing that you're on your way to Spain. I hope that any minute this door will open and you'll stay with me, but I know you can't. Feliciano probably doesn't want you to leave the country. Somebody told me he changed a lot. I can't really imagine that, but I doubt that it was a pleasant change. I'm sure that you are still the same though. _

_There are more things I'd like to tell you, but I can't fit them into one letter. Please write me back this time, I'm worried about you._

_Yours truly, _

_Antonio_

* * *

_December 18__th__, 1938_

_Dear Lovino,_

_I know it's almost Christmas now, but it doesn't feel like that at all. You know, blood is not appropriate Christmas decoration. I always loved Christmas, but the thought of my people killing each other on a day like that makes me cry. Christmas is supposed to be a peaceful time, yet all there is now are the never-ending sounds of battle. _

_I wish I could spend Christmas with you, like we used to when you were living with me. Seeing you would be the best present I could ever receive. Really, nothing could make me happier right now._

_When will this damned war end? When will all this chaos and hurt be over? When will I be able to see you again? That's all that is on my mind at the moment. I can't think of anything else. I never had to go on for such a long time without talking to you or receiving a letter from you. I really don't know how to go on any more._

_I pray a lot now, too. It's not like I didn't pray before every now and then, but I guess it's true how people say that one only turns to god when one needs help. Mostly I plead for him to put an end to this war, but I also pray for you. I pray for your health and safety and that you won't ever have to witness the horror I have to endure at the moment. _

_I don't know why I don't get any letters from you. Maybe they got lost along the way. Maybe somebody steals them before I can read them. Maybe somebody stole mine so you wouldn't be able to read them. But please, send me one anyway. It would mean the world to me if I got to read it._

_Yours truly,_

_Antonio_

* * *

_April 2__nd__, 1939_

_Lovino,_

_I can hardly believe it, but the war is finally over. _

…_I know it's probably too much to ask, but please come and visit me. I'm begging you, I need to see you so badly. Please, just do me this one favour. I will be in your debt forever, so please…_

_I really can't wait for you._

_Antonio_

* * *

Lovino held the stack of paper in his hands, his whole body trembling, biting his lower lip, and before he knew it he could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks. And a mere second later he dropped the letters, covered his face with his hands and started sobbing violently.

This had just been too much at once. He could hardly believe what he had just read. It broke his heart to read those desperate words, and a few years too late at that! Years of pent-up stress and sorrow made it to the surface and caused Lovino to sob and cry and yell even louder.

He couldn't even tell how long it took him until he managed to get his sobbing under control and calm down a bit, but he knew that he needed to go and see Antonio. There were still some tears streaming down his face, but he couldn't care less right now, all that was on his mind now was Antonio, every other thought was banished immediately.

He gripped the letters tightly with one hand as he went up the stairs, and slowly but surely his anger about Feliciano took over and re-ignited the fire inside him, woke up his rebellious side after he had forced himself to stay calm for so long.

He couldn't believe what his brother had done. He had picked up on the fact that his brother was acting creepy as hell lately, of course he had, but this was beyond his worst nightmares. Stealing his mail was one thing, but keeping him from staying in touch with Antonio was something entirely different. He would've never thought that his brother, his own, oh so perfect little brother would sink to that level.

And still, all of this just made him more determined to get into his car as soon as possible and drive to Spain as fast as his car would. He stormed into a kitchen, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a quick letter for his brother. Oh, Lovino would regret all of this one day, but right now he couldn't care less, he thought as he grabbed his keys and stormed out of the house.

* * *

_Dear Shitface,_

_I hope you are fucking proud of yourself. I don't know why you hid them, and I'm not sure if I want to know why, but you have no fucking right to steal my letters, especially not if they're from Antonio, you backstabbing little traitor. But I found them today, and I want you to know that I'm on my way to Spain right now. _

_Don't you dare follow me or try to find me. Don't forget that I'm a part of Italy too, and I have no qualms to call my friends in the south and tell them to beat you up until you can't see straight any more. You wouldn't want that, would you, fratellino?_

_But I'm not writing this as Italy Romano, the southern half of Italy. I'm writing this as Lovino Vargas, a guy who was fucking worried about a friend, and even though I know you hate to hear shit like that, you're the bad guy in this little story. And don't you ever fucking forget that, you bastard._

_Best regards, _

_Your brother Lovino_

* * *

Spanish Civil War: July 17th 1936 to April 1st 1939  
Sadly, that's just about everything I can tell you about it.

March 12th 1938: Annexation of Austria, which thus became a part of the German Reich

I hope you liked reading this.

Drop a review, maybe?


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